Desert Lions
by Onileo
Summary: Like the harsh creatures that thrive in the desert, Temari prides herself on her strength.  But when it fails, she must rely on another or be claimed by the land she loves.  Temari x OC
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is a little side project I'm working on. It's going to be a multi-chapter with sporadic updates, but probably not as long as the others. Also, the intro is a little disjointed, but since it's amusing and ties in with a scene later, I left it in. Enjoy!

Desert Lions

Welcome, reader. I hope you came prepared to hear a story. It's not as grand a story as you might hear in the halls of elves or in the glens of fairies (who I hear tell the best tales), but it is sure to delight, at least for a time. Had this been a story from the fairies, I'm sure that our hero and heroine would have been a prince and a princess who fall in love with each other. And had it come from the elves, they would have lived happily ever after. But our story today comes from the sprites, who are much more mischievous and untamed than their winged cousins, and have far shorter lives than the elves. In fact, this particular story comes from a nomadic desert sprite, of the sort who enjoys sandstorms and cooking eggs on bare rocks. Because of this, our hero and heroine are not royalty (though in different circumstances one of them would have been), they don't play in magical forests with unicorns, and they get the same happy ending the rest of us get. It is also much longer than a normal tale of fairy ilk. If you've ever had to wait out a sandstorm with nothing else to do, you'd know why. (Swirling debris can only hold one's attention for so long.) So grab a snack, park your butt, and enjoy the story.

Chapter 1

The morning sun was glowing on the horizon, fading the black night sky to navy blue as Temari filled her last water bottle and shoved it into her pack next to the half dozen bottles already there. She grabbed a box of salt next, as well as a few other provisions, and hastily packed them away. Glancing out the window, a silent curse at the strengthening light left her lips before she shouldered her pack, picked up her fan, and walked out the door. There was no need to run, since she would be travelling in the hot sun all morning and it would be a bad idea to wear herself out before getting started. But that didn't negate the fact that she would most likely hear a lecture over her tardiness, especially if she didn't reach the Suna outpost and relieve Matsuri by noon.

She briskly made her way to the gate, dark blonde ponytails bobbing to the rhythm of her fast steps as she left a disturbed trail of dust and sand behind her. The streets of Suna were quiet, most people still in bed or just getting up, cursing early mornings and short showers. The occasional shinobi passed her on their way to various posts, relieving the night watch. The guards at the gate had not switched from the night before, and she nodded to their drowsy forms before being swallowed by the ravine that was the only outlet from the village. Reaching the other side, she paused to let her eyes adjust to the increasing brightness and set off across the desert.

Normally, it was a death sentence to go out alone, but the outpost she was assigned to for the week was only half a day away and, by desert standards, not that dangerous to get to. In fact, the only downside to the mission was that nothing ever happened. And since nothing ever happened there, only one shinobi at a time was ever posted there. Which made said shinobi insanely bored five minutes after getting there, and just plain insane by the end of the week. Usually, the job was doled out as punishment to genin who had messed up on a mission, but not enough to get into serious trouble. But now, with a war raging in the surrounding countries and more ninja out on missions than usual, it landed on whoever happened to be available. And since Gaara was busy running the village and Kankuro the Puppet Corps, that left Temari more available than most.

Keeping the sun on her right, she headed north, her eyes roaming the familiar emptiness of the sand dunes. The horizon dipped and rose, the outline soft as the rising sun bathed the land in new light. An already warm breeze stirred the sand around her, smooth, visible currents slithering along as if racing ahead to alert someone of her presence. The occasional boulder held its ground against the encompassing sand, and Temari found herself studying the new cracks and crevices in each one as she passed. For the desert was an ever changing landscape, the constantly shifting grains the paintbrush of time. And that flux was one thing she loved about it. Most people only saw barrenness in the Wind Country, but there was life in the land itself. She felt it in the stirring air, in the shifting beneath her feet, in the creatures tough enough to exist here. Where even plant life failed, they continued to survive, despite the harsh odds. She felt a deep pride that the people of her village could be considered such creatures.

The sun rose higher, and Temari arrived at the monolith that marked her halfway point. The heat was sweltering now, and it was time for her only stop. She moved to the shaded western side and sat down to rest, pulling a water bottle from her pack. Sipping the still cool water slowly as she wiped the sweat from her face, she stretched her muscles in preparation to move again. She wanted to stay longer, but not only was she still a little behind, she was no longer alone. Scorpions skittered past her on the sand, tails twitching nervously as they grew more disturbed by her company. Standing up, she watched them run in and out of the burrow at the base of the rock behind her. They weren't the lethal variety, but still carried a potent sting that would have her swelling almost immediately. Keeping an eye on a particularly brave one near her sandal, Temari took a final bolstering drink before stowing her bottle and continuing on her way.

The rest of her journey was quiet and uneventful, and she was more than grateful to see the tall form of the outpost on the horizon just as the sun reached its peak. Quickening her pace, she closed the distance to the tower, giving a friendly wave when she spotted Matsuri on the upper deck. The dark-haired girl disappeared soon after, and in a minute the concealed door at the bottom opened. Pack already on, Matsuri emerged, a worn smile on her face.

"Ready for civilization again?" Temari asked, returning the smile with a knowing smirk.

"Yes. Not one thing happened the entire week, Temari-san." she replied with a groan.

"Well, that's better than something actually happening. I will see you in a few days."

"Alright."

That was the end of it, and Temari watched Matsuri head off before she strolled inside, closing the heavy door behind her. Glancing around, she noted that everything was basically the same since she had been here last. The lower level consisted of three rooms, a small kitchen, a bathroom, and a very spartan bedroom with a cot and a set of shelves containing a few spare weapons, scrolls, household items and emergency medical supplies. In the kitchen there was a winding staircase that rose a good four stories high, leading up to a room with large windows all the way around, and a single door that led to the deck outside. The blinds were raised, letting light fall across an ancient desk and chair set in the very middle. The large log book that rested on top was open, and Temari walked over and picked up the pen that lay beside it, quickly writing her name along with the date and time beneath Masuri's. She noted that the other kunoichi's checks of the area were carefully recorded as always, and just as she said, nothing at all had happened.

Officially signed in, Temari dropped her pack on the desk, strapped her fan on her back, and walked out on the deck to do her initial sweep of the surrounding area. As she made her way around the short circle, she saw the speck that was Matsuri growing smaller. A small smile curled her lips; she really was eager to get home. _'Probably to drool over Gaara.'_ she added mentally with a snort.

Not seeing anything else of interest, she walked back inside and over to the large cage that rested in one corner. The post's lone messenger hawk sat dozing with its head under its wing. Seeing that it had plenty of food and water, Temari left it alone and moved to sit at the desk, propping her fan against the side. She pulled a book she had been waiting to read from her pack and checked the time on the little desk clock before opening the novel to the first page. There was approximately two hours' worth of distance between her and the horizon on all sides, so as long as she made a round on the deck every hour, her small domain was more than adequately covered.

The hours seemed to drag by, until finally the sun began to set. Marking her place and closing the book with a heavy sigh, Temari rose from the chair and stretched. She didn't know how Shikamaru managed to be so inactive all the time. The last time she went to Hidden Leaf as ambassador, they had some free time and Shikamaru suggested they go to the park and hang out. She hadn't realized at the time that 'hanging out' meant sitting in one spot and staring at the sky for five hours. It nearly drove her crazy. In this respect, she didn't begrudge Ino her relationship with him at all. If she had to do it all the time, she would have murdered him by now out of sheer boredom.

Pushing thoughts of the couple from her mind, she made yet another uneventful round of the deck before grabbing her pack and heading down the stairs. A shower would definitely put her in better spirits. As efficiently as possible, so as not to waste their most precious resource, she cleaned up and stepped out, glancing at her soaked image in the mirror hanging on the back of the door. Her blonde hair hung heavily to her shoulders, her feathered bangs framing her cheeks. Her dark teal eyes shone from her tanned face, and she smirked back at herself as she turned to turned to the side, studying her outline. She might not be the groomed beauty that Yamanaka Ino was, but she had a perfectly toned body, and a wild allure that suited her more tomboyish nature.

Without bothering to dry off, knowing any moisture would evaporate in a matter of moments in the dry desert air, she unzipped her pack and pulled out a neatly folded section of bright blue fabric. Unwinding the tasseled sarong, she gave it a shake before wrapping it around her slender waist and knotting it over her left hip. She smoothed the light cotton down, admiring the thick, black tribal pattern that crisscrossed the fabric. Next came a pair of black underwear and silky black tank top, which she pulled on without preamble. Lastly, she retrieved a set of plain silver bands from a back pocket in her pack and snapped them into place around her ankles. Leaving her feet bare, she gathered up her dirty clothes and shoved them into her pack before walking to the small bedroom and depositing it on the cot.

A more genuine smile curved her lips as she made her way to the kitchen to fix herself something for dinner. The cool stone floor sent a pleasant chill through her feet as her skirt rippled with her every step. She could only imagine what the people she knew would say about such an outfit if they saw it, which was why she reserved it for her trips here and when she was out on solo missions. Not that she really cared, but Kankuro's teasing was insufferable, and she would rather avoid a lecture from Gaara and Baki about the ineffectiveness of the ensemble if at all possible. Besides, she wasn't quite as self-confident as she let on, and even though she really enjoyed the sense of rustic femininity she got with it, she wouldn't dare go around flashing so much of her thigh in the village. Her hard-won credibility would go down as quickly as the leering idiots who thought themselves man enough to approach her.

She took a relaxing breath as the evaporating water from her body continued to cool her, plopping down at the table with her meager meal of lizard and rice. As she savored the meat, the memory of the first meal she shared with the Konoha nin drifted across her mind. The faces Naruto and Sakura made mid-mouthful as Kankuro revealed what they were eating were priceless. Team Gai never even blinked, having eaten far more exotic cuisine before. Kakashi, of course, was unsurprised and said that he actually preferred the scorpion. That had iced the cake, and Naruto had nearly lost it then and there while Sakura stared at her food as if were crawling with maggots. With a huff, Temari had told them that not every country was blessed with forests full of deer and fields of cows, and if they didn't like it, they could eat somewhere else. Sakura immediately apologized, but Naruto looked slightly queasy for the rest of the night, barely touching anything until dessert.

After finishing up and washing her dishes, Temari grabbed a pomegranate and headed back upstairs to do another sweep of the horizon from the deck. The sun was nearly down, setting the sky on fire in brilliant shades of red and gold, the sand beneath reflecting the colors almost as well as water. There was a nice breeze going, so after making her way around, she pulled the lone chair from against the outside wall to the edge of the deck and sat down. Her anklets clinked together as her feet went up on the rail and she crossed her legs, the fabric of the sarong draping from her knee halfway to the floor. Her left leg was exposed up to her hip, the feathery tassels tickling her thigh.

She ate the seed-like flesh of the pomegranate slowly, closing her eyes on the last bite to let the taste of it wash over her. Then she threw the rind as far as she could over the railing, watching as it sailed into the distance and bounced on the sand before stopping. Some creature would enjoy the lucky find before the desert claimed it as it did all things. Licking her fingers clean of the juice, Temari tilted her head to rest it on the back of the chair. The breeze felt so good, and she was so relaxed she suddenly found herself wishing she could just stay here forever. Before she knew it, her eyes were drifting shut, and though she tried to fight it, she was soon dozing in the fading light, hands hanging limply at her sides.

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Several hours earlier, and far to the north, a lone figure rested in the sparse shade provided by an even more alone stand of dead trees, the wood long since petrified. Glossy red hair, tipped in black, hung down in a face already deeply tanned, protecting it from the fierce sun of the desert. Striped light landed on muscled arms, bare and beginning to show signs of sunburn.

With the fingers of one hand wrapped around a nearly empty water bottle, Kisho lightly poked at what was sure to be a blister with the other. He was sorely regretting his choice of clothing at the moment. His tank top and mesh might be cool, but it offered no protection either. Luckily, his pants were full-length and his legs weren't suffering the same fate. Drawing his sandaled feet deeper into the shade, he took another drink as he waited for midday to pass so he could be on his way again.

A sigh escaped him as he licked his already peeling lips. At least he wouldn't have to deal with this harsh environment for much longer. Suna was only a day away now, and after he collected the intel the Tsuchikage required, he would be on his way back home to Iwa. Then he would request a few days off to relax and wipe this miserable place from his mind. It actually wouldn't be so bad if it weren't so… empty. But it was just flat sand, and hilled sand, and rocks, and wind that blew more sand in your face. There wasn't anyone around to talk to but yourself, and if you talked to yourself too much, you had to wonder if the heat was getting to you. He decided then and there that he would never complain about the biting cold winters of Earth Country ever again.

At last the sun began to descend towards the west, and Kisho pushed himself to a sitting position. He emptied his now warm water bottle and stuffed it into his pack before retrieving another, along with a white handkerchief. Dousing it with the water, he drew it around the back of his neck and knotted it in place. He thought it looked stupid, but it would keep him from getting too hot and having a stroke. He wet his hands and ran them over his face before taking another drink and putting the bottle back in his bag. Zipping it closed, he stood and slung it over his shoulder. Time to get going.

He set a steady pace, keeping one eye on the sun to judge direction and time. An hour more passed and his mind started to wander. Sweat beaded on his face, and he absently wiped it away as he watched sand skitter around his feet and two jutting rocks on either side of him shifted away from each other. He had just registered the fact when there was a slight vibration beneath his feet. The ground opened up under him and he was suddenly falling through black space.

Reacting quickly, he reached for any kind of handhold he could find. His fingers found purchase for a moment on the edge, but the dampness from his sweat left him sliding downward at breakneck speed. In his scramble to prevent certain death, his pack came loose and was sent hurdling into the darkness below. He pushed chakra to his limbs to enhance his grip as the jagged surface gashed his hands and arms and tore his pants at the knees, but the shifting rocks kept breaking his hold. At last a tiny ledge halted his progress, and panting and bloodied, he clung to the rock face. Several seconds later, he heard the crash of his pack as it landed somewhere beneath him.

The earth settled into quiet repose soon after, but sand continued to shower down on his head from above. He gathered his thoughts as both the sand and his breathing slowed, and he peered downward to see if he could spot his pack. The light didn't reach that far, and as he counted back the seconds from when it started to fall until he heard it land, he figured it was now irretrievable. Moroseness settled over him as he gently shifted on the ledge, hoping his movements didn't dislodge it.

This was great. He just traded a quick death for a slow one of dehydration.

Narrowing his eyes in determination despite himself, Kisho judged the distance from where he was now to the rim of the crack. Sand hit his cheeks as he craned his neck back, and he had to spit out several grains when he forgot to breathe through his nose. Thankfully, he hadn't fallen overly far, and with help from his chakra, he should be able to scale it in a few minutes. He wished he could just jump out, but travelling all day combined with the intense heat had sapped his physical strength, which in turn lowered his available chakra. And since he had a minor ability to absorb it from others, his initial level wasn't that high to begin with. Besides all that, he was deep in enemy territory, and if he used that much chakra at once, someone was bound to notice, if they weren't already on their way because of the tremor.

Finding a decent handhold, he curled his fingers around the knobby earth and hauled himself upward, one painstaking foot at a time. His fingers slipped twice, and he almost lost his balance, but an extra boost of chakra at the last second kept him securely in place. Once he was out of the shadow of the chasm, the sun jumped in to torment him as well, renewing his need to sweat, which ran down his face and stung his eyes. The shine from his forehead protector bounced off the wall in front of him, hindering his sight further. He could feel grit and sand collecting in his wounds, and he mourned the loss of his pack once more. If they got infected and he ran a fever, the desert would claim him for sure.

At last his hands breached the rim, and with a burst of chakra that he didn't know he still had, he boosted himself over the edge and rolled onto his back, eyes squeezed shut against the world. His arms and legs were burning as they hadn't since his training as a genin, and his chest was heaving from exertion. A dry cough welled up in his throat, and he rolled onto his stomach as he gave into the spasms, his dirty hair falling around his face. He didn't stay there long though, the sun slowly eating away at the now exposed back of his neck.

With what seemed like a monumental effort, Kisho stood. He regained his bearings, and stood facing Suna once more. From what he figured, he had a better chance of survival by going on instead of back. Retreating the way he came was almost certain death; he would never make it out of the desert before his body gave out on him. But once he reached the outskirts of Suna, he could maybe steal some water or manage to get some from an understanding civilian. Or if he was insanely lucky, there would be a deserted oasis nearby.

He went to take a step forward and stumbled, his overexerted leg muscles protesting the movement loudly. He tried again and got the same response. It looked like he would need to employ his alternate method of travel. If he even had enough energy to pull it off. But if he didn't try, he would die where he stood. If he tried and failed, he would be out of chakra and die anyway. If he did manage it, he would probably draw attention to himself and die in an interrogation chamber. A thought occurred to him and he bitterly chuckled to himself as he forced his bleeding hands together to form the first seal.

He had all the sunshine he could handle, but where the hell were the rainbows?

Oh, that's right. Rainbows require _water_. Silly him.

Shoving his sarcasm aside, he finished the last hand seal and held his hand out, palm toward the earth. Normally for this jutsu he would kneel and place his hand directly on the ground, but he was half afraid that once he got back down there he wouldn't get up again. This way was a little less effective, but it was all he could do at the moment. Sand whirled up as he released his chakra, followed by smaller stones loosened by the earthquake. He concentrated harder and at last felt the tell-tale vibration that meant his jutsu was working. A portion of the chasm wall broke loose and lifted toward him, providing him with enough material to start molding his construct.

His chakra flowed through the stone, altering its density and changing its shape according to his design. He formed legs and a torso first, and then the leonine head appeared as he dropped his hand. It was far from perfect, without a working mouth and no tail, and the whole thing lacked detail, but it was functional, and that was all that mattered. Sightless eyes regarded him a moment, then the sound of dry, grinding joints filled the air as it moved to stand at his side, following his unspoken directive. Reaching out a lethargic arm, Kisho managed to pull himself onto his stone lion, practically dragging his legs into position.

The lion stood still a moment, then took off at a sluggish canter towards Suna. Grateful for the reprieve, and the coolness produced by his drying sweat, Kisho slumped forward a little, relying on his experienced balance to keep him from sliding off. At this moment, muscle memory was a glorious thing. He was more tired than he could ever remember being in his life, which was actually to his advantage, since it helped him ignore his parched throat and peeling lips.

As the hours wore on, the lion's pace slowed until it was all but walking, reflecting the exhaustion of its master. The sun started dipping toward the west, losing strength and accenting the shimmer rising from the sand as the desert began releasing the heat it held throughout the day. The temperature actually soared before it began its nightly descent into near freezing, sending its inhabitants scurrying for shelter. All of this went unnoticed by the Stone ninja, whose senses were dead to everything except the chakra flowing to direct the lion and the path ahead of him. He failed to notice that his hands were no longer in front of him, but hanging limply at his side, or the fact that he had ceased to sweat altogether. His vision was starting to blur, and chills ran up his spine from the sunburn blisters peppering his arms, face, and neck.

He kept going forward, hoping he was still traveling in a straight line. His mind was screaming at him in alarm, but he was too far gone to respond. His chakra was down to a trickle now, and he was still at least a half a day from Suna. There was a tall black shape dead ahead of him, growing larger by the second, but he couldn't focus on it at all in the haziness of twilight. The air was cooler now, but it was too late to feel relief. Somewhere in the back of his mind he came to grips with the fact that this was it. Despite all of his efforts, he was going to die, not at the hands of his enemies, but as a victim of the merciless environment they called home. He managed a subconscious smirk even as his lips split and began to bleed. At least they wouldn't have the satisfaction of killing him. His vision was nearly completely black now, and he fell forward, chin resting on the warm rock shifting beneath him.

Just as he lost consciousness there was a bone-jarring thump as his now chakra-less lion hit something solid and crumbled into dust, leaving him helpless and exposed in the rubble.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It was almost completely dark now, the sky glittering with stars as it waited for the arrival of the moon. The dark ocean of sand beneath lay deathly still as the last of the day's warmth was returned to the heavens. It was not silent, however, as staggering, inhuman footsteps preceded a heavy crash and a raised cloud of dust. Temari's eyes flew open as a shock reverberated through the wood and stone beneath her, pulling her from her lulled state. Her legs came swinging down as she rolled from her chair, grabbed her fan and headed to the north side of the tower. Ready to defend herself from an attack, she cautiously peered over the railing.

Below her, in a pile of rocks that hadn't been there before, was a figure lying in a crumpled heap. They didn't move, or make any sounds, so Temari could only conclude that they were either injured or dead. And there was a faint trace of chakra in the air, as if someone had just cast a jutsu. As her eyes adjusted to the darker shadows below, she could make out a hue of dark red on the head of the figure. Her heart jumped in her throat before she fell into the calculating coolness that her years of training had forged. Springing onto the railing, she opened her fan before swinging it beneath her. Her bare feet landed securely on the stiff paper as she leaned forward and to the left, angling for a swooping dive. Her sarong flared out behind her as she began her descent, the night air rushing up her bare legs to tickle her exposed thigh.

It only took a moment to drop from that distance, and she pulled her fan out from under her at the last second, landing in a crouch, one palm on the sand, the other holding her fan out to the side. When the figure failed to stir, she straightened and silently approached. As she moved closer, she could tell that it was a man, and thankfully, not her brother. But his back was to her, and she couldn't make out anything else, except that the back of his neck was mottled red and white from a sunburn. The shallow rise and fall of his chest told her he was still alive, albeit barely.

Folding her fan, she used the end of it to prod at his back. "Hey!"

He didn't respond, so she poked him again, this time hard. Satisfied that he wasn't trying to ambush her, she used her fan as a lever and rolled him over. His face and arms were as badly burnt as his neck, and she figured that he had stumbled across her outpost just as the desert was getting the best of him. But he had been using chakra just before he collapsed, so it was no accident that he was in this part of Wind Country. She didn't see a forehead protector anywhere, but that didn't make him a civilian either.

Resigning herself to taking him in, she secured her fan under one arm before grabbing his legs and turning him the rest of the way over. His head flopped to the side, hair splayed around him in a dirty tangle. Facing him, she adjusted her grip on his calves and began dragging him backwards, around the side of the building to the door. He was deceptively heavy, though nothing she couldn't handle. Wielding a bulky weapon since childhood had given her a surplus of stamina and arm strength.

After dropping him to open the door, she pulled him the rest of the way inside. Cringing when his head accidentally hit the doorframe, Temari pulled him through the kitchen and into the bedroom. Tossing her pack from the bed to the shelf and setting her fan to the side, she straddled his legs and bent down to hook her arms under his shoulders and lift him to the bare mattress. The smell of drying sweat and earth filled her nose, carrying with it the scent that was uniquely his. Ignoring their closeness, she lifted until he was upright and turned until his torso was even with the bed. With a small grunt she laid him back down, before lifting his legs with a little less care and swinging them onto the bed.

Glancing around, she located a couple of heavy leather straps. They had probably been borrowed from the interrogation department when the place was initially stocked, and left unused on the shelf until now. Thanking whoever had the foresight to put them there, she unfurled them and snaked them through the frame of the cot and around the ninja's body and legs, cinching them tightly into place. She looked over her work, satisfied that he wouldn't be able to get loose once he woke up.

Sparing a few minutes, she retrieved her fan and headed upstairs. She had to get a message to Suna about their intruder and have their ANBU come and pick him up. While she could probably manage him for a while, she had no idea how strong a shinobi he was, or how much chakra he had at his disposal. Plopping down at the desk, she pulled out a slip of paper with red edges and began scrawling the coded message. Moments later it was done, and she stood, rolling it up and inserting it into a red tube. Just as she was heading over to the hawk's cage, she glanced out the window and paused mid-step.

It was difficult to see in the darkness that surrounded the tower, but there was definitely a foreboding haziness outside. Changing direction, she walked to the door instead and stepped out onto the balcony. Her hair was caught in the strong wind that greeted her, and her skin was pelted with small granules of sand. It hadn't got bad yet, just started from the looks of it, but a sandstorm was about to sweep through. There was no way she could send the bird out in that. Her message would just have to wait until it passed.

Feeling uneasy at the unfortunate turn of events, she turned and went back in, and set the note on the desk before detailing the previous couple of hours in the log. They didn't have a holding cell or any sort of lockable room, and she made sure to make a note that they needed one from now on, as well as chakra enhanced restraints. After that she headed back downstairs to stand guard in the room until he woke up.

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An intense chill swept over Kisho as he was brought back to awareness. His whole body ached, inside and out, the shivers making his muscles spasm uncomfortably. His throat felt as if he had been forced to swallow the infernal sand that surrounded him, and even though his eyes were still closed, they burned unmercifully. By some miracle he was alive, though at this point he wondered if it was a blessing or not. A groan escaped his split lips, answered by the sound of shuffling somewhere beyond him.

Remembering that he was in enemy territory, he tensed his muscles and prepared to defend himself. It was then that he realized that he was no longer slumped over, indeed not even outside, but lying on his back on a bed of some sort. He couldn't move his limbs when he tried, large bands crossing over his chest and legs held him securely in place. He forced his eyelids apart, only to be met with the blinding torture of an overhead light, shining right in his face. Out of instinct he turned his head away, despite the protesting of his stiff neck and damaged skin, until his watery eyes were focusing on a doorway beyond his shoulder. He couldn't see anyone, but the shuffling came again before a voice broke over him, the strong feminine lilt accented with the dialect of the southern countries.

"Well, I guess you're awake now."

Angling his head so he could see down his body, his captor finally came into view. She was standing at the foot of his bed, a large tessen fanned out in front of her as she poised for attack. The fierceness in her teal eyes gave her away at once as a kunoichi, which hardly surprised him considering how close he was to Suna. She wore no forehead protector, and most of the rest of her was hidden behind her fan, so there was little more he could learn about her until she spoke. Forcing a dry swallow, he prodded her.

"Who are you?" he croaked out, pain searing his throat with the effort.

"I'll ask the questions." she returned sharply. "Why were you in the desert, headed toward Suna?"

He was silent for a moment, studying her defensive impatience. "I was headed to the coast and got lost." he lied.

"Nice try, but I don't believe you. You were using chakra when you collapsed. Why were you going to Suna?"

Kisho tried to swallow again, and nearly choked on the thickness of his tongue. He'd never get through a whole conversation this way. "Can I have some water?"

Temari eyed him warily for a long moment, debating on what to do. There was no doubt now that he was a shinobi, and not one of Sand's. The problem was, there were too many factors left unknown. He didn't seem very forthcoming with information, so she had to assume he was an enemy. But was he alone or with a team? And what exactly was his mission? She didn't want to help him only to have him escape or attack her, but if he died without telling her why he was there, Suna could be in serious trouble. Maybe if she showed a little compassion he would cooperate with her until this situation was resolved. After all, you caught more flies with honey than vinegar.

She sighed heavily and tucked her fan under her arm before moving to the shelf where she had tossed her pack and retrieved one of her water bottles. Cautiously approaching, she pulled the stopper up and leaned forward, tilting the bottle until a stream of water fell between his parted lips.

The lukewarm liquid was pure heaven. Kisho swallowed rapidly, with some difficulty at first, until the pain in his throat eased. She pulled back all too soon, and he licked his burnt lips to moisten them as his eyes pleaded for more.

Temari shook her head at the unspoken request. "You can have more in a few minutes. Drink too much and you'll be sick. I am _not_ cleaning up after you if you do."

His lips twisted in a small pout before he grimaced as another shiver wracked his body. She let her eyes run over his lobster-red skin, inwardly wincing at the size of the water-filled patches spread over his arms. She had been burnt that badly as a genin once, when Gaara had disappeared on them and they had spent nearly three days in the desert looking for him. Kankuro and Baki's long sleeves had spared them, but her exposed arms and legs had turned bright red and blistered terribly. When Baki finally located her brother and they returned home, she had spent nearly a week in bed, cold and sick from sun poisoning. It had been absolutely miserable.

Without a word she turned back to the shelf and set her fan within easy reach. Locating a thin, white cotton blanket, she shook it out and tossed it over him. He hissed in pain as the cotton brushed against his blisters, but gave her a grateful look once it settled into place.

"Thank you." he said, his voice a lot smoother now that the water was doing its work to heal his body.

She inclined her head at him in acceptance before giving him another drink. Satisfied that he wouldn't die on her right away, she set the bottle down and crossed her arms over her chest. When she felt his gold eyes on her body, following the movement of her arms, she couldn't stop the blood that rushed to her face and threatened to turn her cheeks pink. Forcing it back down, she focused on her previously unanswered question. "Now, what were you doing so close to Suna?"

He stared at her silently, his gaze lifting to her face as he took her in. She was pretty, in a wild sort of way, with shoulder-length hair that lay in layers around her. It reminded him of his lions, minus the bangs, of course. Her skin was tanned evenly from her life in the desert, much like his own, the result of spending more time outdoors than in. His eyes swept over the rest of her, from the form fitting tank top that showed her curves off nicely to the skirt that hung from her hips loosely. He moved back up to her face in time to see her eyes narrowing as she stepped toward him.

The blanket was roughly pulled from him before a resounding crack sounded in the quiet room. For a split second he felt nothing, then pain burst across his shoulder where she had slapped his sunburn, snaking its way up his neck to flare through his head. He ground his teeth together to keep from crying out as she fisted her hands on her hips and glared down at him.

"Hey! I'm talking to you! Don't think for a second that just because I helped you that means that I won't kill you if you don't cooperate."

He returned her glare full force and when the pain subsided to a nasty stinging, spoke. "Don't think that just because you helped me I'll tell you anything."

They stayed that way for several minutes, each one willing the other to back down. Fatigue finally forced Kisho to give in, and he turned his head away and closed his eyes. She could kill him if she wanted to; as soon as her fellow Sand nins arrived to take him to Suna, he was a dead man anyway. Yes, he knew it now. From the way she kept pressing with her questions, he knew that not only was she from Suna, but that she was alone with him here as well. But they weren't far from the desert village, and her comrades would be on their way as soon as the sandstorm he could hear raging outside let up. Better to go now than be tortured first. But he was too weak to force her hand. He had regained very little chakra while unconscious, and the blanket had warmed him considerably, making him drowsy. If she let him live through the night, he would make his attempt in the morning.

"Goodnight…" he mumbled to her before allowing the darkness that had been creeping around his vision to swallow him.

Temari watched in dismay as the ninja on her cot just fell asleep right in front of her. She couldn't believe his blatant dismissal of her. Did he not think she was serious? She could kill him right now and not bat an eyelash. As the minutes passed and his face relaxed in unconsciousness, her temper cooled. She might be as fierce a fighter as either of her brothers in a battle, but she couldn't stay angry with him when he looked so serene. Picking the blanket up from where she had dropped it on the floor, she made sure his straps were secure and covered him back up.

Preparing for her inevitable guard duty, she retrieved a chair from the kitchen and set it near the shelves so she wouldn't have to stand all night. Sitting down, she watched his chest rise and fall, and his face lose its lax expression every once in a while when he tried to turn and his protesting nerves sent pain signals racing to his brain. Outside, the wind grew until it was howling, barely a perceivable moan through the thick walls. Eventually it became hypnotic, and Temari banished the sound to the back of her mind before she was lulled to sleep, focusing instead on using her time to sharpen her weapons and do a maintenance check on her fan.

After a couple of hours she rose and stretched, taking measured steps around the room, silent as a stalking cat. She was used to this kind of work, and didn't mind the long silences accompanying the press of boredom. She might not have been able to move much physically, but she kept herself busy mentally, cataloguing the details of the room, the questions that would need answered when her prisoner woke again, the lines of his face.

At this last one she edged herself back into her seat and brought her chin down on her closed fist, elbows resting on her thighs as her heels pressed into the lower rung of the chair. Her eyes roamed over his form, taking in the tangled mess that was his hair as it splayed over his forehead whenever he turned his head toward her. It looked like it would forever be getting in his way, and she wondered why he was never inclined to cut it. It certainly wouldn't be very productive to blind yourself in battle every five minutes. But she couldn't say she didn't like it. In fact, she wondered how nice it would look washed and brushed out until it was smooth. The black tips at the end were interesting too, almost giving him a sable look.

She followed the trail of his hair onto his skin, studying the hue of his tan in the places that weren't burnt to a crisp and taking note of the nearly invisible scars that lay scattered across it like a map. They were too small to mar his looks, but lent him an experienced air, though he couldn't possibly be more than a few years older than she was. But age didn't equal experience, as she and her brothers knew all too well. Gaara's fierce face rose in her mind, and she couldn't help but compare the two again. Though their eyes were similarly shaped, the dark outline around her brother's made them seem far larger. And this man's eyebrows were black, arching evenly over his ocular bone. He had a slightly larger nose and a more squarish jawline, his face lacking the rounded quality that gave her brother his air of innocent menace. Now that she had a better look at him, he didn't look all that much like Gaara after all.

The hour of dawn approached and still the sandstorm raged around the pair. Temari had tried to go out on the deck for her check several times, only to be driven back inside by the biting sand. She wouldn't have been able to see anything anyway, not that anyone would be able to move out there. So she resigned herself to watching her prisoner and waiting. He slept on, and several times she nudged him with her toe out of boredom just to make sure he wasn't faking.

She had just decided to start reading from her book again when there was a silent shift in the air. Temari lifted her head, seeking the source of the change. Then it had occurred to her that it was _silent_. The sandstorm had passed as abruptly as it had started. Relief washed over her and she stood to leave the room. She could finally send the hawk with her message, and she would send another with it, inquiring if there had been any damage to the village. She glanced at her prisoner only to find that his feline eyes were on her, the urgency in the deep gold rings nearly startling her.

"You have to let me up." he suddenly demanded.

She scoffed. "Not a chance."

"If we don't leave right now, it will be too late. It's just below us, I can feel it."

Temari frowned in aggravated puzzlement. This was the worse attempt at winning over a captor she had ever seen.

"Feel what?" she found herself asking anyway.

"The earthquake!"

"I don't feel any-"

She was interrupted by a hard vibration right beneath her feet. It flowed upward through her bare soles and tingled up her legs in a strange sensation, making her stare at the floor, which seemed to flex right before her eyes. Then she glanced back up at her prisoner.

"How did you know?"

Kisho was nearly frantic now, struggling against his restraints as he glared at her. "It's already too late to run. Unstrap me or we'll die!"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Kisho awakened at dawn, but it hadn't been the coming light that stirred him from his forced slumber. It had been the vibrations rising through the frame of the cot. They were subtle enough for most people to not notice, but his affinity for earth style jutsu had left him with a heightened sensitivity to the workings of the ground beneath him. Now the gift was doing him justice, alerting him to the impending danger mere moments away. If only he'd been paying as close attention yesterday…

He'd pleaded with the kunoichi holding him captive, warning her of the earthquake, but her sluggishness in responding was costing them dear seconds of time. Then the moment of escape was past as he felt the violent shift below them. The plates in the earth were pulling apart, and they would be swallowed up, building and all. She realized her mistake in not trusting him, but it was too late. The foundation of the outpost groaned as its support suddenly dropped away, the mortar between the stones cracking and crumbling as gravity tried to pull them downward. The kunoichi lost her footing as the room tilted sideways. A squeak erupted as the cot slid towards her and the wall, and for a moment he thought the bed might pin her. But she was quick, and by the time his bed hit the shelves, she had regained her balance and was standing with her feet on the narrow side of the shelves, chakra keeping her in place.

"Release me now!" he demanded.

Leaning forward to reach the bed, Temari swiftly flipped the buckles loose. Wasting no more time, Kisho's hand shot out like lightning, grabbing her by the wrist and flipping her across him and under the bedframe. He hit the edge of the shelves as gravity took effect, scrambling to right himself. Gripping the edge of the cot, he jumped over it to stand beside her. There wasn't much room between them, but he managed to crouch down, palms on the wavering surface below.

Using what little chakra he had regained, Kisho pushed it into the stone of the wall, molding it until it solidified into one piece. He reached as far into the rock beyond as he could, striving for an extra foot of purchase. But his chakra gave out on him before he finished, and he collapsed on top of the Sand kunoichi. Above them, what used to be the floor splintered and cracked before curling around them as the uppermost portion of the building landed solidly against the far plate of earth. The inner walls gave way and fell into the chasm below. With a growl Temari roughly pushed him off of her, regained her feet, and snapped open her fan. Using it as a shield, she crouched over him, deflecting the debris and rocks that would have fallen on top of them both.

What seemed like an eternity later, the world stopped moving and everything grew quiet. A thick layer of dust hung heavily in the air, clogging Temari's lungs and making her want to cough. Her arms were beginning to ache from being in one position so long, and her heart was thundering in her chest. Kisho did cough, and wincing as he shifted to a sitting position, surveyed the surroundings before turning to her.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice still rough from his sore throat.

She snapped her fan shut and stared at him incredulously. "Are you nuts? We just fell kami knows how far into the earth, we're trapped beneath half the building, I'm wearing a ridiculous skirt, and you're asking me if I'm okay?"

"Yes."

"No, I'm not okay."

Chiding herself for losing her temper so quickly, Temari straightened to survey the destruction and sort through her options. The six foot square wall/floor they were standing on was the only recognizable part of the outpost that was left. The rest was a mess of rock and furniture. The toilet was hanging by its metal piping to her left, the lid dangling open at an odd angle. The shower stall was gone, as well as the rest of the bathroom. She peered over the edge of the cot, only to discover that the shelves were missing too, leaving the gaping maw of nothingness below her. She could barely make out the twisted metal of the staircase dangling beyond. Or maybe it was the railing from the deck, she couldn't be sure. Above her the western wall was still wedged like a broken bridge, the middle splintered nearly in half.

She wouldn't be able to climb the rock face, it was far too unsteady, and a sudden aftershock could send her falling to the bottom without warning. There was nearly no breeze, and the passage was too narrow for a wind jutsu, so she couldn't fly out either. But maybe if she let the other end of the wall drop, there would be enough room to jump to the far side of the chasm, then onto the remaining section of wall and climb the rest of the way out from there. That way if she did fall, she would land on the building and not be worse off than she already was.

Temari started to snap open her fan again, but was stopped as Kisho's hand landed on her wrist.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting out of here, what else?"

"Don't do that."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I don't remember when you became the Kazekage. And I don't take orders from _anyone_ else."

He let her go, scooting as close to the wall as possible. "Suit yourself."

With a powerful blast of chakra, Temari swept the obstructing piece of ceiling out of the way. But as soon as it shifted and fell, the remaining section of wall began to groan. It vibrated before swinging downward, right on top of them. She tried to bring her fan back around in time to defend herself, but couldn't maneuver fast enough in the tight space. Just before the debris hit her on the head an arm came around her and she was swept backwards, her spine hitting the wall as Kisho shielded her from the tumbling stone. Luckily, the cot caught the brunt of the blow, and the grating of stone against metal was loud as they were enclosed in a tight triangle of debris.

Breathing heavily from the exertion, Kisho glared at her. "I told you not to do that."

"Shut up."

"…"

"And get off of me!"

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Kisho gave her a bemused smirk as he twisted his body around and sat down. The ledge he had created was just big enough for them to sit side by side, shoulders touching. His companion refused to even look at him now, let alone talk, so he listened to the sound of the earth as aftershocks rumbled through the crust, shifting nervously as he prayed his handiwork stayed intact. More debris fell when a particularly strong one rolled through, but it held despite the vibrations. At last it was completely quiet, and there was nothing left to do but wait until he had rested enough to escape.

After steadfastly ignoring him for a half an hour, the silence was beginning to wear on Temari, until finally, she snapped. "This whole situation is ridiculous! Are we ever going to get out of here?"

"As soon as I regain my chakra, I can get out easily."

She gave him an incredulous look. "How?"

He just stared at her until she heaved a sigh. "Fine, don't tell me. But just remember who it was that saved your life."

"My life wouldn't have been in danger if you hadn't detained me."

"You're right. It wouldn't have been in danger because you'd already be _dead_. When I dragged your sorry ass inside you were nearly gone from sunstroke and dehydration. I'm beginning to wonder if it was worth my time."

Kisho patted the solid floor. "Just remember who it was that saved _your_ life."

Temari scowled at him, hating the fact that he was right. He glared right back, refusing to back down. They warred silently until he turned his head away, letting his dusty hair fall over his face. "Can't we agree to work together until we get out of here?"

"Fine. So what do I call you anyway, other than _Enemy Ninja_."

"Kisho."

"I'm Temari."

"I would say I'm pleased to meet you, but under the current circumstances, I'm not so sure."

"Same here."

They fell silent again, and Kisho shifted to relieve the numb feeling in his backside from sitting on the hard stone. He tried to get comfortable, but it was hard to do. Leaning his head against the wall behind him, he closed his eyes as he mumbled, "I need to get some sleep. You might as well do the same. It won't be easy getting out of here."

Temari gave him a disbelieving look. He actually expected her to go to sleep right next to an enemy shinobi, exposed to attack with no help within reach? He had to be insane. Looking back up at the debris above them, she ran through some more options, and still came up empty handed. If she tried to use anything to move the rest of the ceiling, it would come crashing right down on their heads. There was only a small hole on either side of the cot legs in which to crawl, with no purchase on the cliff wall beyond. She couldn't see the top of their makeshift ceiling, and had no idea how stable it was. It seemed that no matter what she tried she would inevitable fall to her death, not a thought she relished. It would be better if she died at the hands of the man beside her than lie broken until her body gave in to its injuries.

Finally she relented, and as if on command, her entire body relaxed. The shock of the earthquake was settling in, making her more tired that she had ever felt in her life. She did her best to stay upright, but she was soon slumped against Kisho, dozing off with her head on his shoulder. He did his best to ignore the stinging sensation every time her hair rubbed against his skin, but she slept lightly, moving often. At last he couldn't stand it anymore and gently shifted her until she was lying with her head in his lap. She opened her eyes sleepily, frowned at him, then dozed off again.

He watched her for a few minutes, his fingers finding their way to her layered hair. He supposed if his mission had to be a failure, this was one of the better ways for it to happen. Exhaustion finally caught up with him, and he closed his eyes against the burn making them water. His head fell forward and he dozed off as well, one hand still in her hair.

At least she hadn't noticed when he began leeching her chakra…

xxxxxxxxxxx

It was pitch black when Temari awoke, and for a moment she didn't know where she was. She was incredibly thirsty, tired, and her eyes felt like they were covered with grit. Then a snore right above her head sent alarm coursing through her. Bolting upright, the top of her head crashed into something before it gave way and allowed her to sit. Kisho muttered a curse and cradled his smarting chin, and the day before came rushing back to her. She fumbled around for her pack to find a flare, only to remember that she was in her civilian clothes, beside an enemy shinobi, and didn't even have a kunai. Covering the tang of sudden fear with humor, she shifted to a more comfortable sitting position.

"Good morning."

She felt his eyes on her in the dark, and knew he was glaring at her. Ignoring it, she peered out the hole beside her, watching as the rock began to separate from the free air. She wished she knew what time it was, but the sun in the sky seemed an eternity away. Turning back to him, she tried to find his face in the blackness.

"Have you regained enough chakra to get us out of here?"

"Yes."

"So what's the plan then?"

"The separated plates are still frail, and it's impossible to tell when the edges will begin to crumble. The safest way out is to tunnel into the earth behind us, angling up until we reach the surface."

"And how do I know you won't just leave me buried in the ground?"

She felt more than saw his sudden anger.

"Look, we agreed to work together until we got out of this mess, right? Just because I'm from a different country doesn't mean I'll go back on my word. Rock shinobi are just as honorable as Sand nins. I won't leave you behind."

Trying not to wince at his harsh tone, Temari shot back. "Well, I'm sorry. I don't make it a habit of trusting anyone."

Without answering her, Kisho turned until he was facing the opposite direction. Pulling away the floorboards with little effort, he exposed a large section of concrete. Then he lay his hands flat on the surface. Invisible in the daylight, his chakra flared up, producing a faint blue glow in the darkness. Temari had twisted around as well, and was watching him carefully. Feeling out the rocks, he broke the bonds holding the layer of concrete together until he created a soft spot.

"Dig the debris out." he said without breaking concentration on his task.

Leaning close and reaching under his outstretched arms, Temari scooped up a handful of soft plaster and rock chips just below his hands. Scooting back, she tossed it through the hole in the side of the cot and came back for more. Little by little they made a hole in the foundation big enough for them to crawl through. Once into the softer earth behind it, Kisho was able to manipulate the substrate faster. After nearly an hour of steady work, they were able to crawl into the crater.

Thanking her lucky star she wasn't claustrophobic, Temari followed him into the tight space, scooping the loose earth between her legs and behind them as they went. Once they had a six or seven foot section cleared, Kisho began angling upward, keeping the angle gentle. Time ceased to exist altogether in the darkness, and she had no idea how long they had worked before she began to feel a change in the earth she was moving. It became grainier until she was sure it was sand she was moving instead of dirt. Then there was a shift above them and the sand rained down, nearly knocking them back as it fell on their heads.

At last fresh air hit their faces, and Temari took a grateful breath of the dry desert air. Light followed shortly after, and before she knew it Kisho had turned and grabbed her hand to help her out of the hole and onto the desert floor. Chests heaving, they lay on the sand, uncaring of the sun that beat down on them overhead. Judging from the distance of the sun and the horizon, they had been beneath the ground for nearly the entire day.

Kisho looked over at her dirt covered form, imagining that he didn't look much better. "So, what now?"

"We'll never make it to Suna before it gets too cold to travel. We need to find somewhere to camp."

"We need water as well."

Lifting her head off the sand, Temari glanced at the horizon on both sides. Then she dropped it back to the ground. "There's a stand of cactus at a dry oasis a half mile north of here. We can cut a few of the limbs for water. And if I remember correctly, there are some dead trees that we can use for shelter until it's time to move."

"You're sure?" He wished he had known that the day before. Then maybe he wouldn't even be in this predicament.

Temari glared at him. "What the hell kind of question is that? I live in this desert. Of course I'm sure."

Kisho just stared back at her before leaning up on his elbows. Arms feeling like cooked ramen, they pushed themselves to a sit, then a stand. Temari led the way, away from the fault line and the destroyed outpost. She was glad to see that the break in the earth ran in a zigzag from east to west, not even close to Suna. Her brothers were safe. Which meant someone was already on their way to check on her. She would be fine until they arrived as long as she had her fan and chakra.

The cactus patch was exactly where she said it was, and Kisho took great interest in his surroundings to avoid the satisfied smirk she leveled on him. Walking up to one with a multitude of arms, she used her fan to swipe the needles off before gently pulling one loose at the joint. Sticky green fluid oozed out as she broke it in half and handed him one. He waited until she was greedily sucking on hers before he raised it up to his lips. The fluid was warm, and he had to suck it from the fibers, but he was so thirsty he didn't care.

When he got all he was going to, he tossed it down and turned around. He froze at the sight of Temari, standing in nothing but her tank top and underwear, tossing her unfolded skirt over two fallen logs to create a shelter from the sun. He couldn't stop himself from staring. Her tan legs were firm and smooth, and the black bikini underwear she was wearing covered her toned ass nicely. It gave him an instant hard on.

Feeling his eyes on her, she turned to frown at him, sudden discomfort turning her cheeks red. Her teal eyes hardened. "Stop staring at me. It's better than roasting in the sun."

Crouching down, she crawled underneath the log, laying with her back to him. After a few minutes of debating with himself and wishing for a cold shower, he removed his sandals and followed her, scooting as far away from her as the small space would allow. He turned his back to her as well, staring at the nearly petrified wood. The trees had fallen in a 'v' shape forcing their feet together. Which was just as well. If he was going to escape, he would need more chakra, and the only way he could drain any more from her was with direct skin contact. Luckily, it didn't matter which part of the body it was.

An hour passed, and at last he felt her begin to relax. He shifted his foot slightly, until he was nudging her ankle with his toe. She twitched a little, but didn't move her foot. At once he began to drain her chakra, an unnoticeable amount at a time. When he was halfway to his maximum capacity he heard her breathing even out as the drain forced her to sleep. By the time the sun began to set she was out cold.

Satisfied that he had an ample amount of chakra, he crawled out of the shelter. Following her example, he used her fan to remove the needles from several more cactus arms, then pulled them off and wrapped them in her skirt with the fan. There he stopped, staring at the sun bleached trees and her blonde hair peeping around the edges. If he left her as she was, she would tell the Kazekage about him and they would be on him faster than a hound at the races. Since this was their territory, he wouldn't stand a chance of escaping alone. He should just kill her and toss her into the rift, letting them think she had died in the earthquake. But shinobi that he was, he couldn't bring himself to do it. If they hadn't helped each other, they would both be dead. But he didn't relish the thought of turning her over to Hidden Stone either. They would torture her, ruin her in their quest for information before sending her back to Suna in as many pieces as times she screamed for them. It felt like a betrayal after what they just went through. But _not_ taking her back would be an even bigger betrayal to his village.

Swearing under his breath, he summoned one of his stone lions before dragging her out from under the logs. Picking her up he climbed aboard the kneeling beast, struggling to balance both her and the weighty bundle until everything was firmly in place. Ready at last, he wrapped one arm around her and used the other to guide the lion north, toward home.


End file.
